


Feeling Horny

by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf), Starrie_Wolf



Series: Starrie's Yuletide Gifts 2019 [10]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, Feels, I feel like half of it is plot though, Ichigo is in Todai, Is that a pun, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Post-TYBW, Tentacle Porn, Tentafeels?, Visored!Kisuke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22157284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Silmari%C3%ABn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf
Summary: When Urahara shoved Ichigo to Hirako to learn how to control his inner Hollow, Ichigo thought it meant Urahara wasn’t Hollowfied.He was wrong.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke
Series: Starrie's Yuletide Gifts 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579774
Comments: 13
Kudos: 503
Collections: UraIchi Prompt Challenge #4





	Feeling Horny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FeelingFredly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelingFredly/gifts).



> UraIchi Event Prompt Challenge #4  
> Prompt: 036. “I’d be nicer if I were you. I get to decide your fate, after all.”
> 
> Yuletide Gift Prompt: UraIchi, Eldritch
> 
> "Horny" is the nickname for Ichigo's TYBW half-Hollow form... nobody gets that pun, I know.

Walking into Urahara Shōten, Ichigo ruffles Ururu’s hair as he passes by the front counter, waves to Tessai, and then clatters down the ladder into the basement. He leaves his luggage upstairs.

Sometimes, he still can’t believe this… this new ease of freedom they’ve settled into after the war is over and the rebuilding has started. Soul Society is enjoying another stretch of relative peace, it seems, or at least no one has come to knock on his door in Todai to ask for his help. Which has left Ichigo with the liberty to pursue his studies and pursue… other things.

After Aizen, after Yhwach, after all the ‘ghost business’ is over and done with… it just feels so weirdly _normal_ to be doing something as mundane as navigating a budding relationship.

His cheeks are growing warm just thinking about it.

With everything that he’s seen and gone through, a relationship with a mundane human just isn’t possible. For a while during his high school days, he thought maybe Rukia… but no, it just wasn’t meant to be. Besides, she’s happy with Renji these days, and Ichigo is happy with –

Well.

On the surface, it seems completely ridiculous. But on the other hand… Kisuke had been the only person who has never dismissed Ichigo’s claims out of hand, no matter how preposterous they sounded at the time. And maybe he used to have ulterior motives, but he was also the only person who actively worked to give the Ichigo the _means_ by which to achieve his goals, from saving Rukia to saving Inoue to defeating Aizen to keeping Soul Society together long enough for Ichigo to rush back from the Soul King’s Palace.

In this world of the unknown, Urahara Kisuke has always been the light that guided his way.

Put it like that, is it any wonder Ichigo ends up falling for this man?

His first semester at Todai has been amazing and everything Ichigo has dreamt of, but Ichigo has been looking forward to coming back to Karakura and picking up where they left off. His cheeks feel hot just thinking about it, but he can’t deny that he had… _really enjoyed_ … Kisuke’s idea of a farewell.

He has a phone now, of course, and Kisuke’s number – but getting himself off to Kisuke’s voice just isn’t the same as being here in person. It’s a good thing, isn’t it, that he brought his entire luggage, which has a change of clothes. For… reasons.

Grinning to himself, Ichigo pokes his head through the door of Kisuke’s lab, a greeting ready on his lips.

He’s pulled up short by the sight that meets his eyes.

“Ichigo-san!” gasps Kisuke, spinning around, but it’s too late. “I thought winter break starts tomorrow?”

His obi is completely untied, the samue gaping open even more than usual, revealing a swathe of that toned abdomen Ichigo would like to grind himself against. Here’s where Ichigo would normally make a quip about how Science clearly gets Kisuke going, and Kisuke would laugh at it, and they would –

Ichigo wets his lips. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from – from –

“I thought you weren’t a Visored,” he hears his voice say, stupidly.

“I – ah, that is –” Kisuke stutters uncharacteristically. His… additional appendages curl up a little on themselves, as though in shame.

He – come to think of it, has Hirako or the other Visoreds ever said Kisuke _wasn’t_ one of them? Ichigo had assumed all the Visoreds lived together, because… well, because the rest of them did, but it doesn’t mean that Kisuke can’t be one of them.

Still… well, Harribel is a shark, so it’s not like there is no precedent for marine-based Hollow forms, and Ichigo shouldn’t be surprised that Kisuke’s Hollow form is something that’s renowned to be intelligent and calculating, or that Kisuke is using it just like he would any other tool in his workshop.

It’s just…

His palms are weirdly sweaty. Ichigo rubs them on his jeans, but that just reminds him why he made sure to put on his more well-worn pair of jeans today, because – because he had been expecting to need the wriggle room, when they –

His movement pulls the denim taut, and it’s not like Ichigo hadn’t realised he has been half-hard from the anticipation this whole time, but it’s another thing to be quite so reminded of it.

“Is –” he clears his throat “– is that why you work so much faster than the average scientist? Because you’ve got ten arms?”

The glimpse he caught of them told him that they were smooth and pretty uniformly white. Prehensile, too – one of them had been curled around a conical flask – and capable of fine motor control.

Ichigo very carefully does not imagine how it would feel to have all of them focused on _him_ instead.

“Ah,” Kisuke says carefully, “it’s… one of my less-known skillsets?”

Oh god, this is like a real-life rendition of The Fisherman’s Wife. Except without the suckers. He definitely didn’t see any suckers, not that – well, okay, he had been looking. A little. And, uh. He’s still pretty hard.

He’s not saying there’s definitely a correlation, but, uh, there might be a bit of one.

Kisuke is looking down at his work bench, half-turned away from Ichigo with his face half-hidden by the shadow of his hat, and it has perhaps taken Ichigo far too long to read the slant of his shoulders as _shame_.

Ichigo strides into the laboratory, makes sure Kisuke is not holding any fragile items – so there _are_ eight additional arms, he didn’t miscount – and then wraps his single pair of arms around Kisuke. As expected, Kisuke startles at the touch, his hip bumping into the bench and making the glass rattle, but thanks to Ichigo’s foresight nothing gets broken.

“I missed you.” Ichigo nips at his ear, sneaking a hand into the folds of Kisuke’s open robe, just on the off-chance that Kisuke misunderstands what he means.

Kisuke is quivering like a startled rabbit, but as a credit to his intelligence he _does_ immediately get what Ichigo is referring to. His eyes go wide and round as he turns in the embrace, searching Ichigo’s expression.

Ichigo grins, leaning in for a proper hello kiss.

Kisuke’s mouth yields sweetly under his, although it takes a moment for the man himself to kiss back and to put his own arm around Ichigo’s waist, hand hovering lower than is strictly polite. It’s a good thing Ichigo let Tessai knows that he’s coming down here earlier, so that they won’t be interrupted.

“Managed to catch the last train back,” he murmurs against Kisuke’s lips, when they finally break for air again. “Didn’t want to wait to see you.”

One of Kisuke’s appendages gives an almost shy-looking little wave, like it can’t help itself, and the action is so unlike his unflappable boyfriend that Ichigo stares a little. As though embarrassed by the attention it’s getting, it curls behind a nearby monitor, in the same way its owner might search for a convenient fan to hide behind. It’s wildly charming.

“Can I touch it?”

There is no way Kisuke has yet to figure out that Ichigo does not mind the additional limbs, but the question seems to take him by surprise anyway. “You don’t…” Kisuke trails off. He doesn’t seem to know what to say. “Ah, that is –”

Ichigo blinks, peering up at Kisuke from under his eyelashes. It’s not like he doesn’t get it, but also… “Uh, wouldn’t that be… hypocritical of me? Since I’m a Visored too?”

Kisuke doesn’t say anything, but two of his appendages snake out from hiding in wary hope. One extends over to Ichigo’s index finger, just barely touching the tip.

“It’s almost like you haven’t learnt how to hide your emotions with these –” Ichigo begins, and is promptly distracted by how _warm_ it is. He doesn’t know what he is expecting – cold, maybe, like the bone-white mask of a Hollow, or maybe slippery like an octopus’ arm, but it’s nothing like any of that. Although it’s the same colour as a Hollow’s exoskeleton, the tentacle is body-warm under his hand, smooth and hairless just like any other part of Kisuke’s body. It shivers when Ichigo runs his hand up the length of it, something that feels oddly like muscle flexing under his fingers.

On impulse, Ichigo brings it to his lips and kisses the tip.

The tentacle makes a weird little flail, somehow managing to writhe out of his grip and smacking against his cheek in the process.

“Sorry!”

Ichigo bursts out laughing. After a second of stunned silence, Kisuke joins in.

“So, they’re sensitive?” Ichigo asks, genuinely curious. From what he understands, every Arrancar has a different level of sensitivity whilst in Hollow form, ranging from almost nothing at all (Starrk and Ulquiorra) to just about everything (Zangetsu and Grimmjow, which may explain why they get along so well).

Kisuke nods hesitantly. His shoulders relax a little more, enough for a few more tentacles to peek out of wherever they were hiding. From the rustle and the bulges in his robes, they look like they’re coming out from Kisuke’s back. There’s also no sign of a Hollow hole, nor a mask.

Trust Urahara Kisuke to figure out how to do a half-Hollow transformation without donning his mask.

“I _am_ sorry, Ichigo-san.” Kisuke’s voice pulls him back to the present. “It was not my intention to hide this from you.”

Ichigo shrugs, coming closer again so that he can take Kisuke’s hands in his own. “I get it. It’s not like there’s ever a good time to say, ‘oh by the way, I happen to be an octopus Visored’.” Compared to some of the other secrets that other people have kept from him over the years – his father’s heritage, his role as a weapon, his _mother’s_ heritage – this is positively tame.

Kisuke still looks a little mindblown, like he can’t believe Ichigo has accepted it so quickly. There’s nothing for Ichigo to do except to duck his head, letting his own confession fall from his lips. “Besides… I like it,” he admits. “I like it a lot.”

And then, to prove his point, he uses the grip he still has on Kisuke’s hand to move it to the front of his jeans.

Kisuke’s eyes go wide; Ichigo hisses at how good it feels, all of a sudden, how constricting his jeans are starting to get. He adjusts himself to be more comfortable.

“So…” He wets his lips, glancing at the fragile equipment they’re surrounded by. Kisuke’s lab has a side room, more of an alcove than a proper room, but it’s got a futon and right now that’s all Ichigo needs.

Kisuke follows his gaze, and he’s clearly thinking of the same thing, for his cheeks dust pink. One of his tentacles wrap loosely around Ichigo’s arm and another curls around his waist as they walk through the lab, like he doesn’t want to let go of Ichigo.

Ichigo pets the nearest one he can reach, stroking the velvety skin and enjoying the way it quivers limply in his hold. It’s… _different_ from another muscular part of Kisuke he can name, different but not in a bad way, and apparently just as sensitive.

The moment they’re clear, Ichigo grabs hold of the tentacle and reels Kisuke in for another kiss. It’s better, this time, Kisuke meeting him halfway, his eyes sliding shut as one of his hands migrate into Ichigo’s hair and the other coming to rest in a distinctly proprietary way on Ichigo’s ass. It’s hot and wet, and everything he’s missed when he’s jerking off at night, horny and fumbling in the cramped space of the shower. At this rate, next semester he might actually have to start _using_ the dildo Kisuke definitely intended as a gag gift.

Ichigo yelps, eyes opening reflexively when two of the tentacles slither up his T-shirt to poke playfully at his nipples, but there’s not quite enough grip to make it arousing.

The sight more than makes up for it, though. Kisuke’s robe has slipped mostly off one shoulder and lies scrunched up at his elbow, revealing the four tentacles clustered around his shoulder joint. One of them is wrapped around Ichigo’s wrist, but he can see another stealthily making its way back from – oooh, good thinking there, although Ichigo should really up his game if Kisuke still has enough processing power to spare one arm to fetch the lube.

Ichigo takes a step back, yanking his T-shirt over his head and throwing it aside unceremoniously. Taking the hint, Kisuke divests himself of his own robe. Now that he can get a better look at the tentacles, Ichigo still thinks it looks a little weird, but not in a _bad_ way. In a _he could get used to this_ way. Especially if Kisuke –

He’s clearly taking too long.

He has no idea _how_ , but Kisuke manages to get his fly open and that’s a level of fine-motor control Ichigo doesn’t expect from those tentacles, can he get another demonstration some time, as soon as he can catch his breath –

Two of those tentacles slide into his boxers, already slippery with lube. They’re prehensile in a way fingers can never manage, wrapping around his cock, and it’s _nothing_ like the inexperienced way they had been prodding at his nipples. Ichigo jerks, his next breath stuttering out in a moan, his knees going abruptly weak.

A tentacle swipes the precome off the tip of his cock. “You _really_ like that,” Kisuke observes, in a tone that’s far too much like dawning awe for Ichigo to take, right now.

His cheeks must be a flaming red by now. “I _said_ –” Ichigo grouses, but Kisuke has known him too long to be fooled by his attempt at bluster. His eyes snap wide open when he feels his legs leave the ground. Damn him, Kisuke _knows_ him and his kinks too well –

His jeans are yanked off by… he loses count, staring. Ichigo knows that he’s suspended entirely by the tentacles, he can feel them wrapped securely around his limbs and torso, but he hasn’t… hasn’t actually thought about what Kisuke has been doing with his own hands. He certainly hasn’t been expecting Kisuke to be leisurely stroking himself, the tip of his erection just peeking out of his fundoshi.

“Stop – _teasing_ –”

“I’d be nicer if I were you,” Kisuke points out, mock-admonishingly. “I get to decide your fate, after all.”

Ichigo’s eyes _glitter_ at the unspoken challenge. “Oh yeah?” he demands, kicking the air, absently noting how much leeway he has. “How about you come over here and _make me_ –”

The tentacles tighten their hold, coiling a few more times around his arms for good measure, pulling them apart into a spread-eagled position. Most of his weight is resting on the tentacles distributed around his torso, though, so it doesn’t even hurt.

Ichigo lets his head fall against the wall, panting heavily. Damn, foiled.

“Oh, but I’m rather enjoying the view here.”

 _What view_ , Ichigo is just about to ask, when tentacles wrap around his thighs and yank them apart. The tentacle wrapped around his cock holds it helpfully out of the way while another pulls his boxers off, baring him completely to Kisuke’s eyes.

It comes back after flinging the offending article somewhere, circling inquisitively around his perineum, almost touching the rim and then back again.

Ichigo gulps, and can’t help the way his ass relaxes in learned response.

Is he… is he going to… to _put it in_ …

His cock gives a full-bodied twitch, precome spurting a little from the tip.

Kisuke’s eyebrows shoot up.

Ichigo briefly considers slamming his head into the wall. “Shut up,” he says weakly. He tries to kick Kisuke for good measure, but the tentacles tense against his thighs and his leg doesn’t get very far.

It’s not like he can’t break free, if he really wanted to. The fact that Ichigo is just lying here, suspended and on display, his cock leaking precome steadily, is implicit approval enough that it makes his face burn to think about it.

“Well, if you insist,” Kisuke says agreeably, walking forwards. His arms slip under Ichigo’s armpits to hold him in place and Ichigo’s legs automatically wrap around his waist – or try to, anyway; the tentacles simply force his thighs further apart to accommodate Kisuke. It’s humiliating.

Ichigo _loves it_.

To stop himself from giving any more away, he pulls Kisuke into another open-mouthed kiss, his arms newly-freed – a glance downwards tells him that those tentacles have gone to support his legs. Eventually, Kisuke leans back a little, casually wiping his mouth with one of the tentacles, and switches his target to Ichigo’s collarbone instead.

Ichigo tilts his head back, panting, wondering how much more dignity he has left to lose if he asks Kisuke to put it in his mouth too –

One of the tentacles slide back between his ass cheeks, slick with oil. Ichigo jumps a little, but he’s held so tightly that he doesn’t manage to go anywhere. And then Kisuke’s hand is there too, fingers tracing around his rim until Ichigo completely relaxes and it –

It’s… it’s certainly _something_ , all right. The same width as two fingers, but far longer, and far more prehensile – it glides past his prostate, hesitates, and then makes another less-tentative pass. It’s like getting fingered and getting fucked and neither of them at the same time, and Ichigo’s body is confused but so very _on board_.

“Good?” Kisuke checks, although it seems to be rhetorical.

Ichigo nods briefly, thunks his head against the wall so that he doesn’t have to look at Kisuke’s expression when he asks, “Give me another?”

This time, Kisuke’s sharp inhale has the hint of moan in it.

Ichigo grins, and very deliberately licks his lips too for good measure.

The world tilts alarmingly, spinning slightly before it rights itself again and Ichigo finds himself on the floor once more. To be more accurate, he’s on all fours on the futon he’s frankly completely forgotten about, and there’s a dripping hard cock in front of his face.

The tentacles that were keeping him upright let go once Ichigo confirms that he’s got his bearings. He shuffles forwards on his knees, until he can get _that_ in his mouth.

It’s shockingly blood-hot, in a way Ichigo has almost forgotten, and definitely thicker than the tentacles have been. Kisuke hisses out a sigh between clenched teeth, his hips tensing and then relaxing in a way that suggests he is controlling the urge to thrust.

Ichigo hums low in his throat to show his appreciation. He’s not sure he can control his gag reflex at the moment; a semester away seems to have reset his meagre deepthroating skill back to zero.

Kisuke breathes out harshly through his nose. His hands flex on the meat of Ichigo’s ass cheeks, spreading them apart to make room for a second tentacle. Ichigo whines, careful to keep his teeth sheathed behind his lips, but it just traces over his rim without pressing in.

“Hang on,” Kisuke warns, just as the first tentacle withdraws, leaving Ichigo to clench down uselessly on nothing.

Going from being full to empty so suddenly is _unsatisfying_. Ichigo pulls off Kisuke’s cock, ready to protest when fingers slide just past the rim to scissor it open and two tentacles force their way through, slamming into his prostate with enough force to make his knees slide up the futon.

Ichigo’s mouth drops open. He thinks he might have come from that alone if there isn’t a tentacle wrapped around the base of his cock and his balls, squeezing in warning. He drops his head, panting into Kisuke’s hip, feeling fingers – no, wait, that’s a tentacle – pet his hair gently as he adjusts.

“ _Move_ , damn it,” he curses when he can find the words again.

Kisuke groans, long and low, when Ichigo swallows him back down again, further than he managed the first time. The tentacles manage something approximating a thrust, slippery warmth edging past his prostate, and only the other tentacles gripping Ichigo’s thighs keep him from choking on Kisuke’s cock by accident.

It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s _not enough_ –

The world spins again, hangs suspended –

Something a lot bigger and hotter than the tentacles slide home inside him. Ichigo moans at the sensation, blindly grabbing at Kisuke’s shoulders for balance. He’s – he’s now sitting in Kisuke’s lap, which makes that –

He grabs a fistful of Kisuke’s hair and hauls him in for another kiss, feeling the tentacles flex around his thighs as they lift him up, and then down again. It’s almost like Ichigo is riding Kisuke, except a lot easier on his knees. Less tiring, too, which lets him sit back and just _feel_ –

His cock is trapped between them, at an angle that’s impossible for a hand to get to, but the tentacles don’t have such limitations. The one that’s still wrapped around it squeeze rhythmically, shifting in a way that generates just enough friction to send him over the edge.

Ichigo comes with a choked cry, his fingers digging into the meat of Kisuke’s shoulder, hard enough to almost draw blood. He just sits there for a moment, panting, before he deliberately clenches down on the hard cock still inside him and flops backwards down onto the futon.

To his credit, Kisuke doesn’t ask if he’s sure, just readjusts his position such that he’s no longer angled at Ichigo’s prostate and starts a pace that’s so brutal Ichigo has to put out a hand to brace himself against the wall. His cock gives another weak twitch, trapped between them, but even he can’t get it up again that fast.

Kisuke’s panting open-mouthed against his neck, his movements becoming more and more uncoordinated, like he’s been aiming to kiss Ichigo but gave up. “Ichigo,” he gasps, but whatever else he means to say is lost under a groan as he comes.

Ichigo pats his shoulder as he collapses in an undignified heap. The tentacles have vanished some time in the interim, like Kisuke can’t concentrate enough to hold the half-transformation any more, but at least that means there are less limbs to coordinate this way. He wriggles into a slightly more comfortable position under Kisuke, wincing a little at the hot rush of fluid sliding down his thigh. He’ll make them get up in a minute, he tells himself.

“Good thing I brought a change of clothes, eh.”

Kisuke laughs weakly.

**Author's Note:**

> Author is aware that octopi have arms, not tentacles, but uhh I wanted the intelligence of an octopus + the recipient didn't want any suckers + it would be a textual nightmare to differentiate humanoid arms from cepahlopod arms if I called them the same thing. Just take Kisuke as some amalgamation of the cephalopod superfamily instead of a distinct breed of it, okay? It's not like Starrk is a full sloth or Ulquiorra an actual bat anyway - and Shinji is a bloody _sphinx_.
> 
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